


Good Bag, Cheap Shoes

by redactredact



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
Genre: Cannibalism, Drabble, Fashion & Couture, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4408877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redactredact/pseuds/redactredact
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To comment on Clarice's outfit in <i>Silence of the Lambs</i>, Hannibal <i>must</i> know something about fashion. Maybe a lot of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Bag, Cheap Shoes

“Jack. I think it’s him.”

“What?”

“Look—” Zeller held up his phone, an image of a man in a brightly colored suit blown up to fill the screen.

“This was taken this morning.”

“Where?” Jack asked, grabbing the phone from his hand and zooming toward the man’s face. It was a profile shot, very art-y, but it had to be him.

“Milan, outside the Palazzo Serbelloni. We don’t have a geotag but there are other shots—”

Jack lifted a hand to cut him off.

“I need a direct line to the Italian police. I need the name of whoever took this. And I need to know how the hell he let himself get in front of a photographer.”

Zeller and Price exchanged a look, and a smirk.

“Oh, you’re going to love this,” said Zeller.

Price, who couldn’t keep his mouth shut, chimed in, “Our boy took a little walk through Fashion Week.”

* * *

"No.”

Hannibal was pacing. Hannibal did not pace. Bedelia was concerned.

“Why not? Is it not lawful, or even common courtesy, to ask the permission of a subject?”

“He’s a blogger, Hannibal, not an artist. It’s what they do.”

“But surely—”

“He’s a _blogger_ , Hannibal. He would be missed. It would be…” She paused. “Conspicuous.”

Hannibal ceased his pacing. He was still wearing the garish, yet immaculate, suit that had landed them in this situation in the first place. For the sake of camouflage, he had toned down his wardrobe ever so slightly upon their arrival in Europe, but she knew too well the strange affection he felt for the striking, peculiar palette he’d worn near-daily during his quiet rampage through the States. He missed plaid.

How could anybody miss plaid?

 _Everyone dresses well during Fashion Week_ , he’d said. _I will be but one among many_ , he’d said. _I will pass unnoticed_ , he’d said, and here they were with a god damn fashion blogger blowing their well-established cover wide open to an audience of millions.

“I know what I need to do,” Hannibal said, and Bedelia sighed.

“Hannibal. You cannot. Eat. The Sartorialist.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to caralarm and lallowethyu!


End file.
